


Accidental Magic

by JennaUtena



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Magical Moles, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Multi, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16679296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaUtena/pseuds/JennaUtena
Summary: Collection of ficlets about Stiles developing his Spark. Not in chronological order nor same timeline unless stated. Main pairing Sterek.





	1. Flying

He felt her hand run through his hair, muttering that it was almost time to get it cut. He argued against it because he liked it when his hair was longer. It looked more like hers. She sighed in agreement and they went back to half watching the movie. He continued to talk about the scientific inaccuracies and how some of the unscripted parts were kept in the film while she listened and crocheted with her free hand.

It was the lightest he had felt in a long time and that feeling carried over when he woke up. He hadn’t had a good dream in a long time, even since before all the supernatural crap came to light. But his alarm was going off, so he begrudgingly opened his eyes to his pillows and bed below him.

At least three feet below him.

With him still laying horizontally.

In the air.

His eyes widened immeasurably as he tried not to think, to keep his thoughts and mindset exactly the way they were when he woke up. It’s not like the fall would hurt but he was fly—

“Stiles! Turn that alarm off and get up!”

Concentration broken, he fell with an _oomph_ and flailed his way off the bed, landing on the floor and lightly tangling his sheets. The commotion must have been enough to warrant suspicion or at least worry as his dad bounded up the stairs yelling.

“Stiles! Are you al—what’s with the look on your face?”

The shit-eating grin and sparkling eyes only foretold the shenanigans Stiles had planned. So many plans. And so many pranks.

But…before he got to that, he should probably learn some control. Wouldn’t want to go too far, now would he?

Scrambling up to turn off his alarm and get ready for school, Stiles left the befuddled Sheriff in the wake of the natural disaster that was his son. Knowing that he wouldn’t get a clear answer out of his kid until he calmed down, John went back downstairs to fix one of his rarely gotten breakfasts. He had just sat down when Stiles tumbled down the stairs. It was a wonder that the kid didn’t hurt himself more often.

Stiles barely sat down before he scarfed down a waffle and some eggs, stealing some coffee from his dad’s mug. On his way out, struggling to put on a hoodie over his backpack, he yelled over his shoulder, “I’m stopping by Deaton’s after school ‘cause I think I have magic. Don’t worry. And don’t tell Scott! Bye!”

The door slammed, and the house was still once more. John sat there for a second before taking another sip of his coffee.

“At least he’s trying to be prepared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live by the Sheriff’s real name being Noah John Stilinski and only his father calling him Noah.


	2. Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Derek pays too much attention to Stiles' face...or maybe its just the right amount.

The thing smelled like him, sounded like him, and almost looked exactly like him…almost. And that was enough for Derek to attack.

The Alpha lunged at the imposter, upending the new couch Cora and Malia had picked out. He couldn’t bring himself to impale it with his claws. It looked…and the surprised shout sounded…and the feel of him—it!—under him.

A body roughly slammed against Derek’s, making him let go of it, tearing his attention away from the thing and to the screams and yells of the Pack around him.

“What the hell, Derek?” Scott roared, wolfed out, in his face, using his True Alpha aura to shock Derek into mollification.

Even Boyd and Jackson looked significantly disturbed by the sudden rage and unbridled hate Derek smelled of.

“Relax, buddy,” the thing coughed out. “Just warn me when you’re about to get kinky, big guy. And put the pups to bed first. I’m not much of an exhibitionist.”

Peter moved to aid it back up. The black marks on his hands served proof that it was in pain. Good.

Derek snapped, “Shut up! Don’t call me that!”

The familiar but wrong face whipped to him, disgruntled confusion morphing to worry. It was worse than when the Nogistune was here.

Derek flashed his eyes at the creature again and growled out, “Where is Stiles?”

The worry switched back to confusion as it answered, “Right here, dude…are you feeling okay?”

“No!” Derek made to attack again but was held down by Scott still as Malia and Isaac came to help.

The former sniffed around her cousin, remarking, “It’s not wolfsbane or anything I can smell.”

“And he hasn’t eaten anything we haven’t or been around anyone strange…well stranger than normal,” Isaac summarized.

But Derek was too incensed at both the thing that looked like Stiles and its closeness to Peter.

“Get away from that thing!” Derek yelled as he still struggled against Scott.

Kira twitched and said, “I know you guys have issues with Peter still but that’s just mean.”

Derek scoffed at the girl and glared at the shifter…or possessing spirit. He didn’t hear a blip in its heartbeat when it answered, and it smelled genuinely afraid and hurt. Its face blanked and then twisted, now angry.

“He was talking about me, Kira,” it bit out as it stood up and Peter stepped behind it. “Now what’s your problem, asshole?”

Scott, with Erica’s help, got Derek to sit down in the chair farthest from the creature and stayed next to him after he was sure that the enraged Hale couldn’t get past him if he attacked again.

“What did you do with Stiles?” The elongated fangs in his mouth did not make it easy for him to talk and neither did his anger.

“I said I’m right here!” It yelled at him with an anger he hadn’t seen on Stiles’ face pointed towards him in a long time.

It hurt.

“No, you’re not!” Derek raged, unable to take it any longer. “You were close, and you got past them. But you are not Stiles! Your face is all wrong!”

Jackson, the quickest to recover, guffawed. “Finally, someone agrees with me about Spazzlinski!”

Lydia cut him a glare that shut him up before he could do any more damage and chastised Derek. She turned to look at Stiles who was warring with his own anger and pain and squinted.

“He’s right. That’s not Stiles…the moles on his profile are off,” she acquiesced, “They’re…changing.”

“Wha—wait—what?” Stiles shrieked, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening the front-facing camera. He saw his face and looked at his left cheek where he knew his most prominent mole to be and—

“It’s not there. Why is it not there? I didn’t sleep-get-cosmetic-surgery. How could it be there and not there? The hell is wrong with my face? Why are those there and not there? Is the rest of me like this?”

He questioned frantically while the rest of the Pack looked on in wary confusion. Derek calmed a bit, Stiles’ genuine self-focused fear shocking him out of his anger. Peter, still behind Stiles, quickly ripped the boy’s shirt apart so there could see his whole chest. Stiles yelped at the sudden cold and nakedness while they watched the moles and freckles across his body move.

“Well, isn’t this interesting,” Peter smirked. “I knew you’d be powerful but never to this degree.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Peter?” Scott barked, not alright with Peter attacking Stiles but no longer recognizing the being that looked like Stiles as Stiles.

Stiles glared at the remnants of his new shirt and snarked, “If I were really powerful, then I’d magic that creepy look off your face, old man. There’s no way my Spark could do this.” He gestured wildly to the still moving marks on his chest. Though now that he was calmer, they did move slower.

“Try slowing your heartbeat a bit more, Stiles,” Peter advised, looking as interested and calculating as always. “I think you can understand why.”

Preferring that to being mauled by his so-called friends who looked like they were ready to rip into him if he even blinked funny, Stiles closed his eyes and went through old focusing techniques that helped him with panic attacks. Old memories tinged with sadness arose as he thought about the telescope his mom had bought to share the universe with him. And, as he got his heart to calm, so did the movement of his beauty marks.

When he felt that he did enough, Stiles eased one eye open and looked down. This time they had stopped…just in the wrong place.

“Fucking great,” he grumbled, seeing the star maps on his body.

“I’ve never seen the Andromeda constellation in such close-up detail. You should be proud of yourself,” Peter said as he walked into the kitchen call Deaton.

“Oh good,” Lydia sighed, “I was thinking that we’d have to do something unsavory to get Stiles back again. Those look even better than tattoos, Stiles.” She pulled Jackson down with her and started painting his nails as they were doing before Derek flipped out.

Malia, trusting Peter and Lydia, moved to Stiles, clapped his shoulder, and then went to upright the sofa. Erica kept staring at Stiles and was about to laugh at the band of the Batman briefs peaking up from his jeans, but Boyd stopped her before she could make the situation worse. Isaac relaxed and shifted to his more human face. Kira walked from her place by Scott to her seat. Scott, still hovering by Derek, made sure the Alpha wasn’t going to attack again but was only met with Derek’s eyes now their odd amalgam of green-grey-blue-gold running up and down his best bud’s naked chest and—

“Oh, gross, dude!” Scott exclaimed. “You can’t like Stiles!”

And of course, that was all they needed to lose their minds again.

“He did call out on how his moles were wrong.” “And we all know how he loves staring at Stilinski’s face.” “Derek really is smelling some type of way now.”

“No! Unacceptable!” Scott fought against the idea while they—with Cora leading them—were more enjoying bothering Scott than Stiles and Derek.

Danger over, Stiles decided to address the Big Bad Wolf. “So…you know where my moles are?”

Derek’s face snapped up as his ears tinged pink. Stiles’ face was red too and another constellation formed near Andromeda.

“Perseus,” Derek whispered, only making both of them redder.

“Great. Cool. Yeah,” Stiles coughed out. “You’re going to have to make up for attacking me. I think I’ll be fine with a date after Peter gets Deaton over here. And then maybe a game of connect the dots?” Stiles moved closer to Derek so that he could take the adorably shy werewolf’s hand in his and squeeze.

When Scott whined louder, Derek only squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking starcrossed lovers to another level...kind of.


	3. "To The Bus!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More revelations of Stiles' magic ability with his second favorite strawberry-blonde/redhead.

“Stiles, you are not Ms. Frizzle,” Derek deadpanned as he watched his…the human pace through their house. The Pack’s house that is…not Stiles’ and Derek’s. The Beta shook his head as Stiles snapped his head at him mid-step.

“Did you just—?” But instead of commenting further, since Stiles was still getting used to Derek participating in his tomfoolery, he just went on, acting offended. “I can be Ms. Frizzle if I put my mind to it—or Mr. Frizzle at the least! I just need to grow out and dye my hair. My wardrobe’s eclectic enough and we have Jackson for the lizard. The Pack’s the class! It’s perfect!”

And it was only the long times they had spent training that allowed Stiles to dodge the vase that the wolf-kanima mix launched at him.

“Not on your fucking life, Stilinski!” Jackson roared.

Stiles had the unfortunate ability to not keep his mouth shut even under duress.

“Well, I agree you’re too big to ride on my shoulder, so we’ll just have to strap you to the roof or something,” he commented while deftly dodging the tail swiping at him. “The dynamic of the group doesn’t really matter though. No. Not really. It’s the mode of transportation.”

Peter balefully glared at Stiles because, as much as he could usually deal with the teen’s exuberance, today was something else.

“Please, someone shut him up before I do.” The threat was met with the unfurling of a few claws, but Stiles was too deep into his thoughts to realize.

“Just let him go ‘til he tires out,” Malia grumbled, “he’s been going on this idea all day…and honestly I agree on how weird it is.”

“We don’t even know what point he’s trying to get to because he just keeps talking!” Liam cried, spirit broken by Stiles’ incessant speech.

“Aww, puppy. Don’t cry,” Stiles soothes as he launches to hug and pet the youngest Beta. In response, Liam screamed and ran away, much to the amusement of Mason who moved out of the way as soon as Stiles set his eyes on them.

Scott laughed on the side, knowing Stiles’ point but refusing to cooperate. He had to deal with the other’s antics for years. Now the rest of them had to know his pain. The True Alpha would have let it continue too if it weren’t for the pointed look Kira gave him.

Stiles was right. He was so whipped. But he was okay with that.

“Just,” Stiles placated, hands up in surrender after Scott stopped him from chasing Liam. “Just hear me out. Deaton’s already confirmed that I can do magic—or use magic…or have magic…or am magic…we haven’t really gotten to the mechanics of that. But isn’t just ridiculous the amount of stuff and people we can put into Roscoe?! Like anytime there’s an emergency in the woods. Or when we take a trip. Or when we had to go to Mexico. Or that one time we were sent to the Himalayas and Migoi adopted me. Or when we went to Bolivia. Or when we went through the portal to Turkey. Or when we—”

Scott put his hand over Stiles’ mouth in a flash, shrugging at the indignant and betrayed look he received. “I think they get the point, dude.”

Stiles’ inability to make a clear response made his face twist up more. But of course, he wasn’t going to be kept silent for long.

Scott screamed in disgust as Stiles smiled triumphantly.

“Ugh, Stiles, no licking!”

Derailed by the boys’ antics, and Scott chasing Stiles with the other able to keep away, the rest of the Pack just laughed and went back to their night.

But the Hales—i.e. Derek and especially Peter—couldn’t help but think there was more to what Stiles was saying. More than what any of them could possibly understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to write about the Migoi in a story later on! I made a new friend in a story-telling group from Nepal who studies Inner Asian folklore and they've really amazing cultural aspects to share.


End file.
